Tip of the Iceberg
by The Cheshire Cheese
Summary: After overhearing a cruel bit of gossip, Seven finds sympathy in an unexpected place. (Post-"Endgame." C/7. P/T.)


**A/N: This story disregards the Relaunch novels **

**I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager"**

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Voyager's return to Earth was immediately followed by a rush of politics and frantic organization, as the one-hundred-fifty crewmembers scrambled to figure out where they'd live, deliver reports to Starfleet Headquarters, and talk their way out of prison sentences. Fortunately, all members of Chakotay's old Maquis crew were granted pardons, for their service aboard Voyager. After things began to settle down a celebration was arranged, a simultaneous welcome-home and farewell party, before the crew went their separate ways.

Admiral Janeway had booked Voyager, which currently sat docked at the space station closest to Earth. Since this was a private celebration, and not a formal Starfleet one, uniforms were not required; however, many guests insisted on wearing the old Voyager uniforms, now decommissioned by Starfleet, as part of the farewell to their old lives. Tom and B'Elanna went the more traditional route, stepping into the Mess Hall in a formal suit and a dark evening dress. B'Elanna had woven a couple of small braids into the side of her hair, a style she'd tried once or twice in the Delta Quadrant. So far, most of their time had been devoted to their new daughter; but at the insistence of Tom's parents, they took a break for the party, leaving Miral with her grandparents.

B'Elanna elbowed Tom as the Delaney sisters walked by, in their gold and green uniforms. "Tom I told you, we should've worn our old uniforms!"

"I've been wearing that uniform for seven years straight! I'm tired of that thing." To support his argument, Tom nodded across the room. "Look, _Chakotay and Seven_ came as civilians."

Indeed, Chakotay and Seven strode through the crowed arm-in-arm, dressed much like Tom and B'Elanna. Chakotay wore an opened black suit jacket over a dark blue top, bringing out his tattoo and hair. Seven had found a look that was simultaneously more human and more modest than anything B'Elanna had seen her wear during the journey. Her dress was the same shade of blue as her biosuit, but made from a loose material that covered the majority of her body while flattering it. Her hair was drawn back in a loose, elegant ponytail.

"Now that's one I didn't see coming," Tom muttered. "Chakotay and Seven of Nine!"

"I _should_ have seen it." B'Elanna said, half to herself.

"You think so?"

"They're one of those couples that seems bizarre until you actually think about it. They're both stoic as Vulcans on the outside, emotional volcanoes on the inside. Seven's longing to be more human. Chakotay's probably longing for someone who's actually interested in his anthropology trivia and spiritual mumbo-jumbo."

"I'm gonna tell him you said that." But before Tom got the chance, a new face blocked their path. "Captain!"

Kathryn Janeway greeted them with a warm smile. She, too, had chosen to "go civilian," with a lose maroon sweater over black slacks. "It's 'Admiral' now, Tom."

"_Admiral!_ Sorry. I keep forgetting…"

Over the course of the night, Tom and B'Elanna tried to get a word in with at least one of each of their former crewmembers. Husband and wife eventually drifted to different parts of the ship, as they each sought out their own old friends. The heart of the party was in the Mess Hall, but people were socializing all over Voyager, in sitting rooms, on the Bridge, on the holodeck. It was a lot like a school graduation party, really.

"…it's going to be a Bajoran wedding," Marina Jor said, in reference to her upcoming marriage to her Engineering shipmate Tabor. Pouring herself some coffee from Neelix's old galley, she added, "I'll be undergoing the conversion ceremony at the temple next week. Come the Festival of the Seasons I'll be an honorary Bajoran!"

"I'm still opened to a Betazoid wedding," Tabor joked.

It took a moment for B'Elanna to remember that Betazoid weddings involved mass nudity.

"Excuse me," Chakotay cut in. "Sorry to interrupt. Anyone seen Seven?"

Ensign Ashmore, who was getting tipsy, joked tastelessly, "Why, Is she in Betazoid wedding attire?"

B'Elanna saw Chakotay's grimace, and quickly answered, "I saw her a few minutes ago. She was headed for the hallway. I just assumed she needed to use the lavatory. I can go check,"

Chakotay nodded. "We should've brought our comm. badges."

As it turned out, Seven wasn't in the lavatory. B'Elanna was now on her way back to the Mess Hall to apologize to Chakotay, her worry for Seven increasing. B'Elanna wouldn't put it past Voyager's luck for Seven to have been abducted, or stumbled into some alternate reality. On the other hand, it was also very possible that something had upset her, and she'd simply gone off to be alone. B'Elanna knew how difficult Seven found social situations. If something _was_ bothering Seven, there were two obvious places onboard for her to seek solitude. Either Astrometrics or the Cargo Bay.

B'Elanna found Seven in Astrometrics, seemingly reading something at a consol. She glanced up at the sound of the doors hissing opened. It was an odd sight, Seven in that elegant gown and ponytail, hard at work in Astrometrics.

"Seven?" B'Elanna asked, gently but not without authority. "Chakotay's looking for you."

Seven turned back around before replying. "I would prefer to be alone for a time."

"Seven?" Now B'Elanna let the concern show in her voice. She came around and leaned on the railing before the view screen. From here, she could see the material Seven was pretending to read. A random diagnostic. "Is something wrong?"

Seven's head came back up. Her eyebrow and implant moved just slightly. "You are a perceptive individual, Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant commander," B'Elanna reminded her. "Remember? Ensign?"

She hoped the reminder of the entire crew's mass promotion for their heroism in the Delta Quadrant would coax something that passed for a smile out of Seven. But it didn't.

B'Elanna decided to soften her voice. "Did Chakotay do something to upset you?"

"Chakotay's done nothing but show me a patience and attentiveness I doubt I'll ever be able to repay him."

B'Elanna had to smile. "Give it some time, Seven! I happen to know that just being _friends_ with Chakotay can demand a bit of attention and patience." When Seven looked at her dubiously, B'Elanna added, "Alright maybe not as much has you or me. But he's not perfect either, Seven."

Seven's hand left the consol. "Lieutenant…Commander."

"You can call me B'Elanna, Seven. We're not serving together anymore."

"B'Elanna." Seven was clearly about to ask an uncomfortable question. "Do you think Chakotay and I are an…_appropriate_ match?"

Good god, this _was_ an uncomfortable question. B'Elanna had no idea where this was going. Was Seven planning to break up with Chakotay? Or was she afraid that that's what _he_ was planning? Not knowing what Seven was really asking, she saw no option but to answer honestly.

B'Elanna carefully folded her arms, thinking her answer over. "Well I'm no telepath, but you do seem to have a lot in common. I wouldn't have _guessed_ you two'd hook up. But now that you have, I think you balance each other pretty well."

"And the difference in…maturity?"

B'Elanna was visibly taken aback. "Chakotay's only eleven years older than you!"

Now it was Seven's turn to look surprised. "You've memorized our ages, Lieu—B'Elanna?"

"I've done the math. You were assimilated at age six, spent eighteen years with the Borg: you were twenty-four when we rescued you. Which was four years ago, so you're twenty-eight now. Chakotay, I happen to know his age because of a funny thing that happened in the Maquis. I kept pestering him about what year he was born, and he didn't want to tell me, so I hacked his file in the ship's database. Twenty-three twenty-nine. He's thirty-nine years old."

Seven turned to the blank view screen. "Crewman Ivan Yosa and Ensign Andrea Harper were discussing our relationship at a table near the galley. _Ensign_ Yosa and _Lieutenant_ Harper, I'm sorry." This was the first time B'Elanna had ever heard Seven deliver that sort of casual apology. "They were whispering, but as you know my senses are heightened."

Ah so that's all this was about. Some bit of tasteless gossip.

As casually as requesting a weather report, B'Elanna asked, "What did they say?"

"That I have the 'emotional maturity of a teenager,' and Chakotay is irresponsible to 'get involved' with me."

B'Elanna could already feel her jaw beginning to drop, but Seven went on.

"And that he is displaying a lack of gratitude to the ca—to Admiral Janeway. By rejecting her supposed 'love' and dating her 'protégé.'"

"I don't believe it," B'Elanna muttered, more with irritation than anything else.

Seven's eye met hers. "You don't agree with their assessments?"

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "On second thought, I _do_ believe it. Yosa's always been a gossip, he was horrible in the Maquis. He once spread a rumor that Chakotay and I had an affair, and on Voyager people were _still_ asking me about it. I don't think he does it on purpose. He just lets his imagination run wild and reports his findings before looking for any evidence. I'm ninety-percent positive he was behind most of the rumors about Captain Janeway and Chakotay."

"It was Harper who suggested my lack of emotional maturity."

B'Elanna gave it a passing thought. "Well for when we first brought you aboard, 'emotional maturity of a teenager' wouldn't be too far off. But do you think Captain Janeway would have wound up relying on your advice on the Borg Queen's mindset, if that hadn't changed? Do you think someone with the emotional maturity of a teenager would be put in charge of an actual teenager, and three children? Or allowed to attend senior staff meetings? Would you have been put in charge of Astrometrics, where you had crewmen working under you and reporting to you? As far as I know, there was only one teenaged Starfleet officer—Wesley Crusher—and he was never given any of those responsibilities."

Seven seemed to take this in. But unfortunately there was more to her story.

"I heard Harper say that Chakotay was drawn to me solely for my appearance. She called me his 'midlife crisis.'"

"Chakotay had his midlife crisis years ago. He went through this phase maybe around the second year out there, where he was just obsessed with his vision quests and mystical spiritual whatever. It was weird." B'Elanna squinted. "That whole year was weird, come to think of it." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm getting off-topic. The point is Seven, Chakotay doesn't date for looks. Trust me. Seska was alright in her Bajoran form, but she was nothing special. The Borg drone he dated before you was bald. And that 8472 woman—well, I don't want to be immature, honestly, but she had a face like an Alverian cave sloth." B'Elanna's hands came up, as they often did when she was struggling to make a point. "Chakotay…likes women who _challenge_ him. While still being opened to his ideals. Which Captain Janeway wasn't."

Seven cocked her head curiously.

"Harper and Yosa don't know you, or Chakotay, or Admiral Janeway, or any of the senior officers as well as they think. They've only seen the tip of the iceberg. From their point of view, I guess I could see why Captain Janeway would be a better match for him. But take it from me, I've known both of them longer than you have Seven. Chakotay and Janeway make a great team, but there's a wall there. Kathryn Janeway is set in her ways. She's never been interested in Chakotay's spirituality, and in serious situations, admitting he might be right about her being wrong was always like pulling teeth. I can't quite believe I'm saying this, but the way you've come, you might be more open-minded than the Admiral now. At least when it comes to Chakotay's beliefs."

Seven grimaced. "I don't wish to hurt the Admiral."

Quietly, B'Elanna said, with a hint of mock drama, "She's probably in her Ready Room right now, weepilly drowning her sorrows in a bottle of Romluan Ale."

Seven stared at her.

B'Elanna scoffed. "She doesn't _want_ him, Seven! If she did she'd have had him. Maybe you haven't noticed, but when Kathryn Janeway wants something badly enough, she's pretty good and finding a justifiable reason to get it. If only you'd been here when Q was trying to hone in on her. He thought she and Chakotay had a thing too. Her expression was priceless." B'Elanna snapped her fingers. "Let's go find her, right now!"

"I," Seven looked away bashfully. "I don't want to bother—"

"_Yes we do!_ Come on!"

B'Elanna took Seven's arm and led the reluctant ex drone back to the mess hall. Though Borg strength trumped a half-Klingon's, Seven made no effort to pull away. B'Elanna recognized the faux stubbornness she herself had been guilty of all her life. Seven wanted to see what B'Elanna wanted to show her, she wanted to feel better.

They reentered the Mess Hall to find the Admiral and Chakotay standing right near the door, conversing over champagne. Both looked up with pleasant surprise when B'Elanna and Seven approached.

"Admiral," B'Elanna asked, half-humorously. "We were just having the most interesting discussion. We were wondering: should Seven view you as a romantic rival?"

Chakotay's face contorted in confusion, almost hurt. Kathryn Janeway stared hard at B'Elanna, and her blue eyes slowly rolled skyward. Turning slightly, B'Elanna saw Seven's lips tighten in a reluctant smile. For Seven of Nine, it might as well have been an explosion of laughter.

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**A/N: Seven and Chakotay's ages are canon. **

**I used the dates on Chakotay's grave stone from "Endgame" to decipher his age. 2329—2394, he died at age 65; this timeline is 26 years in the future, which puts him at 39 in Season 7. (Which means he was commanding his own ship at age 32!) **

**As for seven, it's stated multiple times that she was assimilated at age six, and spent eighteen years as a drone. So, when Seven of Nine was exactly my age, she had already fought the Borg Queen once, brought Neelix back from the dead, and saved Voyager's ass countless times. What the hell have I been doing with my life?! **


End file.
